


About Time

by CatWinchester



Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies), Thor (Movies)
Genre: F/M, Second Chances, Time Stone, infinity war fix-it fic
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-05-01
Updated: 2018-05-07
Packaged: 2019-04-30 16:29:05
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,761
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14501013
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CatWinchester/pseuds/CatWinchester
Summary: Avengers Infinity War Loki fix-it fic.Summary inside due to spoilers.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Dead by Thanos’s hand, a cosmic entity offers Loki a bargain he cannot refuse, new life if he agrees to kill Thanos.
> 
> Too late in the day to be brought straight back to life, Loki gets sent back in time, To before Thor’s coronation, before Jotunheim, before his life fell apart. Can he make better choices this time and maybe along the way, save the universe?

 

**Chapter One**

Loki looked around him but he could see nothing, not even after his eyes adjusted to the dark. Except despite the lack of light, he could see his arm when he held it out. He felt like he was standing on something as well, but it was as dark as everything else. 

“Do you know where you are?” 

He looked around but could see no source for the voice. It sounded female . . . and wise?

“Am I dead?” he could certainly remember dying. Vividly, in fact. 

“You are.” A form appeared walking towards him, as if walking out of black mist. She had black hair past her shoulders and wore shapeless black clothes. She stopped about three paces away. “I would say welcome back, but we both know that if I’m here, something went wrong.”

Loki looked around himself, desperate for answers, or at least a way to make sense of this person’s words.

“I’ve been here before,” he stated. It wasn’t a memory so much as deja vu. 

“Indeed,” she smiled enigmatically. “Twice in fact.”

Loki narrowed his eyes at her. “You’re the reason I survived the void? And you brought me back on Svartalfheim?”

“I did,” she confirmed. 

“Why?” 

“Because you are the only person with the ability to kill Thanos.”

Thanos! Thanos had done this to him, had killed him.

“You must be mistaken,” he said bitterly. 

“No, Loki.” She stepped closer. “For your sake I wish I were, but it’s true.”

“How do you know?” he demanded. “Who are you?”

“I have many names across many realms, but you know me as Time.” 

“Time is not an entity,” he argued. 

“Time is many things. Some think I am a construct, little more than a tape measure. Some think me a fourth dimension. To others I am wibbly wobbly, timey wimey stuff. And some think me an infinity stone, the embodiment of time. The truth is, I am all these things, and none.”

“And why am I here?” 

“To help stave off the end of the universe.” 

The impenetrable blackness around them now changed until it was the galaxy. 

“Thanos has the infinity stones so he can wipe out half the galaxy, and he will do it.”

As she spoke they appeared to fly down to a planet, Midgard to be exact, and he watched as the people turned to ash in seconds. He watched as Maria Hill and the indomitable Nick Fury turned to ash before his eyes. 

The scene before him moved and changed but in each case, about half the people were turning to ash. Then blesidly it stopped. Time skipped forward. People went from confusion to grief to anger, depression, then finally life seemed to return to some semblance of normality, albeit with more sadness and a few more churches than Loki remembered. 

“But that kind of power drives anyone insane,” Time continued. “In every scenario where he assembles the stone, eventually he wipes out  _ all  _ life.”

Suddenly time returned to normal speed and the surviving people around him began to turn to ash, along with the plants, animals and insects. He tried not to notice that one of those people was Thor.

“Everything will die,” she reaffirmed as he looked around at the baren ashy landscape. Not even a blade of grass had survived. “Everything you care about, everyone you love, all gone.”

Loki turned on her. “Whether you are a construct, a dimension, or an infinity stone, why do you  _ care _ ?”

“All infinity stones have a basic, instinctual intelligence. We can protect ourselves, to a degree. As for me, I have spent thousands of years with humanity now, their sentience and compassion has inspired me.”

“Compassion?” he scoffed. “You clearly don’t know them very well.” 

The scene around him returned to blackness as she gave him that enigmatic smile again. 

“I have seen the good and the bad, I have seen evils that would turn even your stomach, but there are many more good people than bad. Humans are not angels, no more than any other race, they falter and from time to time, they fall horribly, but they usually recover quickly and rise again, better than they were before.”

Loki was having trouble believing any of this was real. 

“If Thanos has the infinity stones, then he has you. How can you be here?” 

“Because I’m not a stone, or rather, not only. I exist everywhere and in every time. I see all that has been and all that could be.”

“And seeing all this had led you to believe that  _ I _ am the saviour of the universe?” 

He was no saviour. Everyone and everything he cared about was already dead because he hadn’t been  _ enough _ . 

“Yes,” she answered simply. 

“What makes you think I will succeed this time?”

“The problem is that each time I send you back, you don’t remember me or what we discussed because here, you do not have a body. Here you are just a construct also and without a mind, you cannot make a memory.” 

“Then what is the solution?”

“Me,” she answered. 

“If you could help, you wouldn’t need me,” he replied. 

“I cannot kill Thanos because I am a construct, a stone, a dimension. What I can do, with your help, is send the infinity stones to the end of the universe, where no one can get them, and help you end the Mad Titan before he discovers what we have done.”

“So we go back, you bring me back to life and with a little teamwork, all will be well?” The ridicule in his voice was unmistakable. 

“No, there isn’t enough time. If I send you back to the moment before your death, nothing changes. We have to go further back.”

“To when?” 

“To when your life fell apart,” she said with sympathy. 

“Jotunheim.” Loki turned away with a hiss. 

“No, before then. Letting the Jotun into Asgard started the cascade effect that ruined your life. You will return to before then, before the coronation, before Thor’s banishment.”

“And why?” Loki demanded, rounding on her. “Why should I do this? Haven’t I earned my place in Valhalla? Don’t I deserve a rest?”

“You deserve to be loved, Loki. When you first discovered the truth about your heritage you were crushed under the weight of the revelations. You’ve been reacting to that ever since. This time you will have the benefit of hindsight. You can gain the respect of your family and your people and perhaps most importantly, yourself.”

“And if I refuse?” 

“You will continue onto whatever afterlife awaits you.”

Loki looked around himself once more. 

“You never told me where we are?” 

“We’re outside of time and space.”

“And why can’t I stay here?” 

“You could, but there is nothing and no one else here,” she replied calmly. “Not even time. You would be driven insane.”

“How quickly?” he asked. 

She opened her mouth to explain that there was no time here, but realised from the wry quirk of his lips and the sly sweep of his eyelashes that his question had been a jest. She returned his smile. 

“So, how does this work?” he asked. 

“I don’t understand the question?”

“You’re coming with me, yes?”

“I will be your companion, yes. I can see everything and guide you to the infinity stones.”

“So you’ll have a body, like this one?” he gestured to her figure. 

“Something like it, yes.”

Loki considered her for a few moments. “I expect I can come up with a suitable cover story to explain your presence.” 

“I will also need your help with many things.” 

“Such as?” A note of distrust crept into his voice.

“I have never had a body before and I will need you to help make one for me.”

“Then this?” he gestured to her again. 

“A construct.” She held her hand out to him but his passed straight through. “The workings of a real body, not to mention people’s customs, will be unknown to me.”

Loki nodded his understanding. 

“Might I take a moment to think?”

“Of course. Just call when you have decided.” She smiled and faded away. 

Loki realised too late that he didn’t know her name to call her. 

Some part of Loki was tired and ready for death, whatever it brought. She did present a tantalising offer though. Not so much the chance of redemption but of recognition. That was the reason behind so many of his actions, a desire to be appreciated—no, it was more than that.

At his heart he wanted acceptance.  

He couldn’t change what he was, and he doubted he could change Asgard’s feelings towards the Jotun, but if he could prove himself, they might accept him. 

Then a single word popped into his head which made his decision for him. Frigga. 

His last words to her ate away at hs soul every day.

Knowing what he knows now, he could save her. Possibly he could send the reality stone to the end of time before that stupid mortal woman encountered it in the first place. 

Hell, if he didn’t disrupt Thor’s coronation, Thor would never be sent to Midgard, would never meet her, so she would not keep searching for him after he left, which was what led her to the reality stone. If it never infected Jane Foster, then his mother could not die protecting her. 

He could accept Thor as king. He could even accept the arrogant, brash and juvenile man he had once been becoming king, if it meant saving his mother.

“Hello? Are you there?”

She appeared as if from nowhere again. 

“You have decided?”

“I accept your proposal.”

“I’m glad.” She looked relieved. 

***

Loki awoke in his bed and turned away from the windows and sunlight. Just a few more minutes before he had to face the day and—

He sat bolt upright! He was in his own room, not Odin’s, not the one on the refugee ship, his own room! 

He scrambled out of bed and to a mirror. His hair barely touched his collar!

What the hel was going on? 

He looked around, seeing quarters he hadn’t slept in for years, on a realm that had been destroyed by Surtr . . . or had it all been a dream? 

He ran to his balcony and looked out over Asgard. It looked real enough but his memories to the contrary were so  _ vivid _ . 

And so specific. He hadn’t just been on a refugee ship at the end of his dream, he could tell you the exact layout of the ship. Dreams didn’t usually have such detail. 

Perturbed, he went back inside and pulled a robe on before he sat at his desk to peruse his book shelves. He must have something helpful in there. 

He turned his chair sideways and rested one arm on the desk. Only then did he see the piece of paper. 

The message was clear and simple. Build her a body. But it wasn’t his handwriting and it didn’t make any sense. Build who a body? 

Technically he could do it. He had mastered cloning himself, so he could make a useable body, but why? And for whom?

His chambermaid knocked with his breakfast and he put the conundrum aside for now, although he continued to search his books while he ate, hoping to spot one that might shed some light on his rather lucid dreams. 

***

Loki closed his door behind himself and limped over to his chairs by the fire. 

Thor had been particularly reckless today and had caught him a blow with Mjolnir during a sparring match, hence the limp. Of course he hid the injury as best he could, refusing all offers to see a healer because he knew Thor would see that as weakness. What Loki saw as foolish, Thor saw as brave.

There was nothing brave about placing one’s friends and fellow warriors in danger!

He remembered the fellowship he felt with Thor in his dream and he missed that, but the brother in his dream had grown up, while this one was still prone to tantrums. 

Loki’s fighting prowess had taken a giant leap forward in the past weeks and Thor was not happy. Rather than training more, he was reacting with rage and on occasion, illegal moves.

Training bouts were just that, training. No actual blows were supposed to be landed or half of Asgard’s army would constantly be in the healing rooms, unable to fight if needed. The competitive tournaments were the only times when combatants were allowed to fight for real, but Thor apparently cared nothing for the rules any longer. 

Someone knocked on his door but he ignored it, unwilling for anyone to see him in pain. 

“I know you’re in there, Loki.” 

He still felt something akin to grief each time he heard his mother’s voice. 

“Enter,” he called, unable to deny her anything at the moment. 

Knowing his need for privacy she entered quickly and closed the door behind her. She took one look at him and just knew. 

“Thor is becoming reckless,” she said as she approached, a note of worry in her voice.

“That is nothing new,” Loki spat. 

Frigga knelt down beside Loki and placed her hand on his leg so she could feel his injury for herself. Her brow knitted with pain. 

“I’m amazed you made it back here,” she said with sympathy. She didn’t chastise him for possibly making it worse, she understood that sometimes his pride was the only defence he had. “Would you like me to heal it for you?” 

“I can do that myself,” he assured her. Using the healing magic he’d taught himself, he repaired the broken bone in his leg, gritting his teeth so as not to cry out in pain as the bone knit back together. Finally, with a fresh sheen of perspiration on his forehead, he sagged back into his chair, spent both physically and magically for a while.  

“Your father has noticed,” Frigga told him. She was still kneeling on the floor beside his chair and she took his hand.

“Noticed what?”

“Thor’s new impulsivity.” 

“That’s not new,” Loki scoffed, not a little bitterness in his tone. Loki had improved in leaps and bounds these past weeks, but it was still  _ Thor _ that Odin noticed. Loki might as well be invisible for all his father noticed him.

“Perhaps not,” Frigga conceded with a smile. “But it has got worse. Odin is reconsidering the coronation.”

That idea didn’t give Loki the thrill he thought it would. His dream still weighed heavily on him.

“Why did you decide to have me,” Loki asked, his breathing stopping as he awaited her answer. 

Frigga regarded him for a moment before replying. “I don’t understand.”

“You had Thor, the future king and father’s heir—”

“You both could have—”

“Don’t lie, mother, Odin has never seriously considered me his heir.” When she didn’t contradict him he continued. “Why did you have a second child?”

“Does there have to be a reason?” 

“For most people, no, but you once told me there is a reason for everything father does. I fail to see the reason for me, unless it is to be someone Thor is allowed to feel superior to.”

“You’ve become quite acerbic recently,” Frigga gently chastised but she didn’t answer his question. “I’ll leave you to recover on your own and see you at dinner.”

Without another word she got up and headed towards the door but she paused before she opened it. 

“We do love you, Loki.”

Loki wished he could believe her. 

“ _ You _ do, perhaps,” he conceded. 

She left without further contradicting him. 

He could put all these niggling doubts to rest if he just visited the vault and held the Casket of Ancient Winters. But his dream was so realistic that he daren’t. What if his worst fears were confirmed? 

He looked to the side table and spotted another sheet of paper, this time a drawing. 

The woman was pretty, in a bland sort of way. He was sure he had never met her but nevertheless, he felt a sense of deja vu. He turned the page over and saw the now familiar message on the back. 

Make her a body. 

The phrase had appeared everywhere recently. As well as the notes and now a sketch, that phrase had also become a chapter title in some of his books which he’d swear had changed despite some of the books being thousands of years old. 

He just didn’t understand it. 

Puzzled by the whole thing, he made his way into the bathroom and took a nice, long soak in his tub. 


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter Two

The book was called _Out_ _of_ _Time_ and it sat on the edge of his desk. Completely harmless and unthreatening, except for the fact that he hadn’t left it there. 

He picked it up and opened it, only for a slip of paper to fall out with another sketch of the woman. This time it was more a simple line drawing, but it was unmistakably her. 

_ Who was she? _ he wondered. 

It had been a month since that dream and although he didn’t remember the details of each day, enough of his dream remained that he could predict certain memorable events. 

Just yesterday Volstagg’s axe had broken in training, almost killing a young soldier. A soldier that Loki had remembered dying, and who would have died again, had Loki not recognised the events leading up to it and leapt to prevent the fatal blow. 

The week before Odin announced he had started new negotiations with Nidavellir, the realm that used to make all Asgard’s weapons. Judicious timing considering the failure of Volstagg’s axe. 

His chambermaid entered then and he turned to her. 

“Maroan, did you perhaps leave this book here?” he held it up for her and saw recognition on her features. 

“I wondered where I left that!” she blushed. “I’m so sorry, Your Highness.” She came forward to take the book but he opened it before she could.

“It’s no bother, just a curious as to where it came from. What’s it about?” 

Her head tilted as she tried to remember. “I’m not sure, I haven’t started it yet. I think the title just grabbed me.”

“ _Out_ _of_ _Time_ ,” he said nonchalantly, until he happened on the slip of paper which was possibly being used as a bookmark. “Anyone I know?” he held up the drawing. 

“Oh, uh, I’m not really sure why I drew that, I’m not usually given to drawing, I don’t have a talent for it. Or doodling.” 

“She’s no one you know then?”

Maroan shook her head, seemingly embarrassed that he had discovered her sketch. 

“I would swear she looks familiar,” he said absently as he stared at the sketch again. 

“I don’t know where it came from,” she repeated, and he could tell that she wasn’t lying. 

He handed the book and paper back. “I hope you enjoy it.”

“Thank you, Sir. Is there anything special you’d like me to do today?” 

“No, thank you.” He strode from his rooms, determined to finally find some answers. 

Shielding himself from Heimdall was easy enough, he’d been doing it for years, never having liked the idea of being spied on. Obviously the guards didn’t stop him, or even question him, he just walked into the vault with a curt nod of recognition to them. 

The casket stood at the end of the walkway, mounted on a plinth before the barrier that housed the Destroyer. It took it’s orders from Odin however, and would never attack him. Least favoured he may be, but he was still Odin’s son, right? 

Standing before the innocuous looking blue box, his courage nearly failed him as his hands hovered over the Casket of Winters.

What if the dream was right about this too? What if he was a monster? 

_ Better to know now than live a lie for another thousand years. _

Taking a deep breath, he reached out and grasped the casket in both hands. 

Tears pricked his eyes as his skin quickly turned blue. 

It was true! 

It couldn’t be! 

It was!

“Loki?” 

He released the casket and turned to see Frigga making her way towards him. The blue of his features didn’t faze her in the slightest, clearly this was not news to her.

How she knew where he was when even Heimdall couldn’t see him he didn’t know, but she had always had an uncanny ability to see what he and Thor didn’t want her to.

“What am I?” he asked, the blue receding as he stared at his hands, turning them and watching the odd lines on his skin fade away. If only the memory of them would fade as easily.

“You are our son.” Her eyes shone with unshed tears and she offered him a watery smile. 

“What  _ more _ than that?” he demanded. “Odin didn’t take me out of the goodness of his heart, he took me for a reason.”

“How do you know he ‘took’ you at all?”

He’d overplayed his hand, he realised, but he was wasn't about to get side tracked by a silly mistake.

“I have read the peace treaty with Jotunheim, it makes no mention of a child being given to Asgard. If I am here it is because he took me.”

“He did,” she admitted, although it clearly pained her to do so. “But from the moment he put you into my arms, you have only ever been _my_ _son_.”

“But why hide what I am from me? Why disguise me as one of you? How could you lie to me all these years?” 

“ _ We _ did not change how you look, Loki. You are a gifted shapeshifter and you adopted our appearance, even as an infant. We didn’t tell you the truth because we didn’t want you to feel any different to your brother. I can see now that we were wrong, but we only wanted to protect you.”

“Protect me? Because I’m the  _ monster _ parents tell their children about at night?” He cried from his heart. The revelation was no less painful this time around. 

“You are  _ not _ a monster,” Frigga assured him, her tears finally spilling over. “We  _ love _ you! We always have.”

Loki was ashamed to feel tears welling in his own eyes, but now was not a time to show weakness and he viciously blinked them back.

“You, perhaps,” he admitted. “Odin, however? I have never been good enough for him.  _ Never! _ Now at least I understand  _ why _ .” 

He made to walk around her and leave, but Frigga grabbed his arm. 

“Loki, please, tell me what’s going on. You’ve been acting very differently lately. Why did you come down here? Why  _ today _ ?”

“I don’t know,” he answered as honestly as he could. “I don’t understand what’s happening any more than you do.” 

He continued past her and she let his arm slip reluctantly from her grasp. 

***

Back in his rooms, Loki studied the clues that had been littering his life these past few weeks. For clues they must have been. He was not so foolish as to believe in coincidence and it was time he admitted that, unpleasant as it may be, the truth had to be faced.

Numerous notes saying ‘build her a body’ or very similar, all in different handwriting . . .

Then there were the books. Prometheus, the story of a trickster god who created man from clay. Frankenstein, where the titular character built a body and reanimated it. Scrawled into a margin were the words, ‘make her a body’. The Book of Genesis, left open at the creation of mankind. And that was just the Midgardian literature. Another half dozen books from other realms littered his desk, all with similar noted or chapter name changes.

Then there were the sketches, just three he had kept, all of the same face. 

Make her a body. With this face?

It would be simple enough, just make a clone of himself and use a few additional spells.

Some races got hung up on gender but he was a shapeshifter, right down to the genetic level, so he simply had to change into a woman, then make a clone. He could even give himself the face in the sketch. 

And  _ then _ what?

With a scoff, he threw the sketch down and paced the impressive length of his room.

_ What was the worst that could happen? _ He asked himself. 

If he made it and no soul came along to inhabit it, well he’d feel foolish but he could dispose of a corpse easily enough. 

But what if the entity demanding a body was hostile? Well, he had the entire Asgardian army to call on, Thor and Mjolnir, Odin and Gungnir, his mother’s magic, not to mention his own formidable fighting prowess and magical abilities. 

And any being capable of defeating them all wouldn’t need  _ him _ to make them a body. 

Really, he had nothing to lose and possibly everything to gain.

Fifteen minutes later,  he looked down on the clone lying in his bed, wondering when  _ something _ was going to happen. He could animate a clone with a copy of his own intelligence, of course, but something else clearly wanted this body. Right now the brain stem was keeping it breathing and the heart pumping, but it had no higher consciousness. 

He checked the markings on her wrists, runic spells that made the body its own entity rather than simply an extension of his magic. He couldn’t dissipate this body with a flick of his wrist, as with his usual clones. 

Just as he was about to turn away, feeling foolish, a green mist swirled around and settled on the body. Once it the mist had been absorbed, she opened her eyes. 

She tried to speak but only noises came out. Seeing panic start to set in, Loki sat beside her and took her hand.

“This must be very new,” he said gently. “Just relax and breathe deeply.”

She did as he said and he could see the alarm in her eyes lessen. 

“L- Lo-ki?” she managed to say. 

“Yes, I’m Loki.” He smiled disarmingly, trying to put her at ease. “Who might you be?”

She raised her hands and looked at them as if she’d never had hands before, then after a few tries she beckoned him closer. He leaned down and she stretched her left hand towards his forehead. He was wary but allowed it. The moment she touched him,  Loki was hit with a bolt of energy of such force that he was thrown from the bed. 

The woman, if that’s what she was, let out a sorrowful howl as she sat up, almost like an apology. Her concern was evident as she gazed down at him.

Before he could decide on a course of action, he must have been done processing whatever she did to him as new memories began to play out. Memories of a dark place, of seeing the universe die. Of seeing his  _ brother  _ die . . .

The woman in his bed was an embodiment of time, he realised, here to help him save the universe from Thanos. 

He remembered Thanos from his dreams—only they  _ hadn’t _ been dreams, had they? They were his memories from before  _ she _ returned him to this time.

For once he allowed himself to replay the dream he had been trying so hard to ignore. Trying to repress.  

With each new revelation he could feel his emotions playing out across his face, and he had just the wherewithal to be glad that his friends couldn’t see him now, because his legendary poker face had utterly deserted him. 

The woman,  _ Time _ , whatever she was called, she fell out of bed and after a few false starts, made her way over to him, wobbling like a newborn deer taking its first steps. She wrapped him in an embrace, and for once he allowed it. 

Perhaps it was because he’d been denying the truth of his dream, or perhaps it was being in a younger body that hadn’t experienced the terrors he was remembering, but he soon found himself crying like a babe in her embrace. He was ashamed of his actions, but powerless to stop them. 

He remembered the pain of falling into the abyss. He _remembered_ Thanos’s heat torture. He remembered . . . _too_ _much_. 

By the time he returned to himself, the woman had learned to rock herself and him while stroking his back and making comforting cooing noises. 

His first instinct was to push her away but he knew that he couldn’t hide anything from her. She was  _ Time _ , she was everywhere, at every point in history, and she’d already witnessed the weaknesses he was desperate to hide. 

“Well, you make quite an introduction,” he said quipped, his usual charming facade back in place, hiding his pain. 

She smiled at his words. 

“First things first, we must find you something to wear.”

She looked at her naked form, then at his clothed body. She seemingly had no modesty at all, which was odd but he supposed probably normal for a being who had never had a corporeal form. He laughed at his own wording,  _ nothing  _ about this was normal!

“W— why clothes?” she asked, slightly mispronouncing her words but still understandable. 

Being a copy of him, her mind didn't need to learn everything from scratch, but he thought it would probably take a new entity a little time to perfect operating a new body. It must be rather like flying a spaceship for the first time. 

“Why do we wear clothes?” he clarified, and she nodded. “Many reasons. Some for modesty, comfort, protection, to show status, but I think mostly it’s to help regulate body temperature.”

“I always wondered . . .”

“You must have seen many things that didn't make sense at the time,” Loki observed. He rose off the floor and helped her to her feet. 

She was shaky, but after a few paces, she seemed to grow more confident. It was a cool day and she had goose bumps on her skin, she stopped to run her fingers across them curiously. He didn't have any women’s clothing but he found a long tunic in his closet for her to wear. 

“I’ll go and find you some proper clothes,” he explained, pulling a robe from wardrobe. “If you get cold, put this on. I won't be long.”

“Can I not wear what you do?” she asked slowly, taking care to properly form the words.

“I suppose you could, but you wouldn't blend in very well. Your hair is too short also.” He sighed, realising that he hadn't given any thought to her cover story. “How do we explain you?” he wondered aloud. 

“Explain me?” she repeated.

“What shall I tell people about who you are, and where you come from?”

“Do not tell them who I am!” she implored urgently.

He hadn't intended to, but he had to ask. “Why not?” 

“I do not have gifts or powers above what you have given this body. I cannot protect or defend myself. But I see all, and that is highly coveted by some.”

“Wouldn't you see them coming for you?” Loki asked. 

“Normally, but it seems that in a body I am limited. I only see what I look for. If I don’t know  _ where _ to look, I cannot see the danger.”

“Then we must take extra care,” he noted. She was fairly unbreakable thanks to having his DNA, but she hadn't been trained to fight, or use his magic, or shapeshifting powers. To become proficient at any one of those would take decades, and that was time they didn't have. “But if you can keep an eye on our immediate futures, we should have some warning.”

She nodded her understanding. 

“Perhaps it’s best if we keep you here until you’re a little more proficient with Asgardian customs.”

“If you think that’s best.”

Her speech was already improving, it wouldn't be long before she could pass as Aesir. 

***

She had no opinion on a name so Loki decided to call her Aeon. 

Under the pretext of working on a difficult spell, Loki kept mostly to his rooms for the next few days. It wasn't unprecedented, he could be very single minded at times, especially with his magic. He left his rooms just often enough so as to not raise suspicion and banished his chambermaid, except for bringing his meals, during which times Aeon would activate a set of bracelets he gave her, making her invisible. 

He reasoned that if she couldn't defend herself, her best defence was to hide. Loki had a penchant for collecting magical objects, primarily to see how they worked, but his collection had never come in this useful before. Aeon preferred not to keep the bracelets activated for long periods however; for some reason they made her teeth itch!

He recommended books for her to read and she devoured them at a rate of knots, but she always had a hundred and one questions. 

Mealtimes were a joy! 

Magic used a lot of energy so it wasn't unusual for him to request larger meals, and watching Aeon eat was a revelation! 

“What is this?” she had said after she took a sip of mead, her tongue tracing her upper lip. “That’s is the most delicious thing I’ve ever tasted!”

He smirked, not reminding her that it was the  _ only _ thing she’d ever tasted. 

As her reading expanded her vocabulary, so her descriptions became more interesting as well. 

“This is the nectar of the gods!” she exclaimed as she tried a slice of cake, closing her eyes to better enjoy the sensations. 

“I feel like I’ve died and gone to Valhalla!” she declared when she tried a peach. 

“That is like eating hundred year old mouldy feet! Do your servants hate you? Why don’t they just serve you excrement next time?” she said of a marbled blue cheese. He couldn't disagree with her assessment, he’d only requested a cheese platter so that she might try a selection of new foods.

When he finally procured some women’s clothing, just so she could experience it, she stroked the silk gown like a pet and once she had it on, she twirled around and around until she became dizzy, just so she could watch the skirt swirl around her. Loki ended up needing to catch her before she fell but her balance problems only made her laugh. 

She apparently enjoyed laughing so much, it made her laugh some more and eventually, Loki could keep a straight face no longer and they both began to laugh, each fueling the others laughter until finally, stomachs aching, they laid on the floor, still giggling occasionally, then groaning and clasping their abdomens. 

Of course that led to trying to make the other laugh. Aeon didn't have much of a sense of humour yet but making her laugh made Loki laugh again. 

Lying there, staring up at the ceiling above them, trying to think of another way to lake her start giggling again, Loki suddenly sobered up as he wondered when the last time was that he had laughed freely. 

Oh, he’d laughed at people plenty, laughed to taunt them, to ridicule, but laughing just because something was fun? That had been years.

The enormity of that suddenly hit him. 

Aeon sat up and began to stroke her silk shirt again, still laughing occasionally. 

Loki found a smile for her as he got to his feet, but there was a heaviness in his chest that hadn't been there earlier. He made his way over to the desk.

“I think perhaps I was wrong about female clothing,” Aeon said, stroking the fabric. “I only ever want to silk from now on.”

“Developing expensive tastes,” he smiled. It was hard not to be charmed by her enthusiasm. 

“Loki, you should feel this, really!” she said, approaching his desk.

“I know how silk feels,” he assured her. 

“Loki!” she whined, wanting to share her pleasure. She held her silk clad arm out to him and with reluctance, he stroked her forearm. 

It did feel nice, so soft and smooth. He closed his eyes and allowed himself to just feel for a moment, to enjoy the simple sensation of stroking silk. A smile played at the edges of his lips. 

“See, I told you you’d like it.” 

He opened his eyes and although part of him wanted to  berate himself for allowing himself to act so childishly , he couldn't.

“It seems you were right.” 

There were times when he thought that being her companion was going to drive him insane and other times when he thought she might just save his sanity. 

_ Only time will tell _ , he thought with a wry smile. 

***

After five days he had taught Aeon as much as he could from his room. It was time for them to start on their quest to find the infinity stones. They had discussed where to start and Loki found himself eager to begin. 

Being on Asgard, especially knowing it had been destroyed, was lovely, but he was beginning to feel stifled. He didn't want to fall back into old habits. He needed to go forward, not backwards. 

To this end he sought out his mother and found her in her study.

“Loki,” she came around her desk and greeted him with a kiss. “What brings you here so early?”  

“I was thinking of taking a trip,” he explained. “Perhaps touring the realms, maybe even going further afield.”

“Loki, you can’t. Your brother’s coronation is now so close, and he needs you with him.”

“Maybe he does, but he doesn’t  _ want _ me with him,” he argued.

“You know he will not be a good king without your influence,” Frigga chided. 

Loki looked at her with genuine regret. That was all he had ever been really, a foil for Thor, the one who cleaned up after him and stopped his foolish decisions from being too damaging. No more. 

“And what if I were to die?” he asked, making his way to the window to look  pensively  out over his home. “Thor’s leadership is not likely to be a peaceful one, he loves battle too much for that, so my death is a very real possibility. Then what?” 

“Loki, don’t say things like that,” Frigga asked quietly.

“But I  _ must _ , because if he cannot rule without me, then he is not ready to rule!” He knew his words were true, and so did Frigga, he could see it in her expression.

“Your father has put the Odin sleep off for so long now,” she said mournfully.

_ It’s not my fault he ruined his first heir and needed to have a new family so late in life, _ he wanted to say, but he didn't.  

“Father’s sleep only lasts a few days at most, let him sleep while Thor and the Einherjar watch over him. He will be perfectly safe, which is more than I can say for the nine realms if you allow Thor to rule before he is ready.” 

“I cannot stop you, Loki, but I beg you to reconsider.”

Loki felt a sharp retort on the tip of his tongue, something about not being able to stop himself from being kidnapped and lied to for a millennia, but remembering how his last words to her had been in anger, he held his tongue. He would never forgive himself for telling her that she was not his mother.

“I no longer exist for Asgard’s pleasure,” he explained, trying to ignore the pain in her eyes. “I never did. It’s time for me to find out who I am away from Thor’s almighty shadow. I hope you might be proud of the man who returns.”

Frigga’s eyes were shining with tears and she reached a hand up to cup his cheek. 

“Oh Loki, I have always been proud of you.”

He placed his hand over hers. He knew her words to be true, but her pride was a quiet thing. Odin’s pride shouted itself from the highest rooftops for all to hear, but it had never been for him. 

Perhaps it was shallow, but he wanted that too. 

“It’s not forever, mother. I’ll probably be back before you know it.”

She nodded, trying to smile despite her sadness. 

“I don't claim to know why you have to leave, Loki, but I sincerely hope you find what you’re looking for.”


End file.
